


I'll See You in the Pictures, Kid

by queenhomeslice



Series: Promptober 2020 [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Crush, M/M, Photographer Prompto Argentum, Promptis - Freeform, Promptober 2020, asking someone out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26761852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: Prompto applies to be the photographer for Prince Noctis
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: Promptober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937668
Comments: 22
Kudos: 102





	I'll See You in the Pictures, Kid

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way. 
> 
> ____
> 
> Was unsure about the rating so I did M just in case, for language and Prompto's ogling and internal monologue. Lol
> 
> Promptober Day 2: Photoshoot

Prompto fidgets nervously as he sits across from the personal retainer of Prince Noctis—the one and only Ignis Scientia. Prompto had only ever seen the man from afar if the prince just _happened_ to wander into the corner convenient store where Prompto works—it'd only happened a few times, but those memories are burned into Prompto’s little gremlin brain for eternity. He never seemed to be working the register when they came in—he was always doing something lame like stocking or hanging up new signs in the window, but still, Prompto was more intimidated by Ignis than by the prince, and that’s saying something. 

But here, up close, just two feet away behind a solid mahogany desk, glasses low over the bridge of his perfectly-formed nose, emerald eyes intense as he reviews Prompto’s CV and portfolio, Prompto feels short of breath. He feels like he’s in a final exam and he forgot to study. He loses track of time as he looks at his gloved hands, fiddles with the leather cuffs around his wrists, bounces his leg and picks at the frayed edge of one of the patches on his jeans—he's so caught up in not fainting in Ignis’ office that he barely registers the door opening and closing until he hears the drag of feet across the carpet. 

“Who’s this?” 

Prompto _knows_ that voice—it's haunted him since grade school, and he hears it in his wildest fantasies at night when he guiltily touches himself under the sheets. The voice is heard on tv interviews, at speeches given during the opening of new city infrastructure, and on the state of political affairs in the kingdom. He whips his head up to see Prince Noctis himself sliding into Ignis’ personal space, half-sitting on the desk and peering down at Prompto’s credentials. 

“Mr. Argentum, who’s submitted an application to do your upcoming photoshoot.” 

The prince scoffs at the mention of the event, and then finally turns his head to look at Prompto. 

Prompto swallows hard, and he feels lightheaded—the prince is even more beautiful up close, with slender, perfectly-proportioned features; stormy blue eyes that Prompto finds himself drowning in; and wild black hair that looks impossibly thick and soft. He’s sure that he looks like a chocobo in headlights—but fuck, if he doesn’t get this gig, he might never see the prince this close again, and Prompto wants to memorize every little detail he can. For science, of course. He wills his body to remain in control of itself—normal people don’t pop boners at job interviews, and Prompto _desperately_ wants to be normal. 

But the prince is looking at him with a strange expression, and shamelessly drags those blue eyes over Prompto’s body, cocking his head when he meets his gaze again. 

“You work at the corner store,” says Noctis. 

Prompto’s heart is currently dangerously close to cardiac arrest territory. He weakly nods. 

Noctis looks back down at the prints Prompto’s brought along in his manilla folder, along with his CV that lists his degree from Insomnia’s private art college—thank gods for scholarships!—and a few contests he’s won over the past couple of years. “You do photography on the side, then?” He looks back at Prompto, and heaven help the blond—Noctis _smiles_ at him. 

Prompto has to resist clutching at his heart, because he feels dead. Noctis’ toothy grin and bright eyes have utterly destroyed him, and Prompto never wants to recover. He wants to be buried with the memory of that smile. The smile directed at _him_ —a nothing, a nobody, a fool hopelessly in love with a man who he didn’t even _know_ he existed until recently. He nods again, licking his lips—he can’t help it. He manages to squeak out a reply. “Uh, yeah—wish I could do it full time but I guess the market’s a little oversaturated, ha ha...” He clears his throat and looks down again, face hot and blood pounding behind his ears. 

“You’re hired.” 

It’s Ignis this time. 

Prompto snaps his head up—Noctis is still there, still _smiling_ at him, and Prompto wonders what parallel universe he’s wandered into. “Huh?” 

Ignis shuffles his prints and his CV—which Prompto printed on marbled off-white paper down at Kinko’s, thanks very much—back into the folder and hands it across the desk to Prompto. “You’re hired. You will report back here to the Citadel at seven-thirty am sharp, do you understand?” 

Prompto takes back his folder in shaky hands and nods furiously. “I, uh—yeah, yes. Definitely. Seven-thirty.” 

“I will be waiting for you at the doors. You will be escorted to the eighth-floor lounge with His Highness. Since you passed our background check in the first round before meeting with me today, you’ll be allowed to remain in the room with Noctis alone—but be warned that both myself and his shield will be standing outside of the doors, and if we hear so much as a distressed _peep_ from the prince, this country will have never known that you existed at all. Do I make myself clear?” Ignis sits up straight and levels his gaze at Prompto. 

Prompto can feel his heart drop down to his toes. He nods. “Yeah, yes, I mean, I’m pretty sure I couldn’t hurt a fly, and I like living, so uh--” He holds his hands up in front of him and waves defensively. “Definitely no touchy. Just pictures.” 

Ignis nods. “Just pictures. Good lad.” 

Noctis rolls his eyes and pats Ignis on the shoulder, rising from the desk. “C’mon Specs, don’t scare him like that.” Noctis jerks his head towards the door. “I’ll walk you out, buddy, follow me.” 

_Buddy_. Prompto feels like crying. Is there any non-creepy way to tell a prince that you’d follow him absolutely anywhere? Probably not, so Prompto just scrambles to put the folder into his bright yellow chocobo-shaped backpack and almost trips over his own boots as he shuffles behind Noctis. 

Damn, that _ass._ Prompto feels so lucky to have a personal view of his prince’s body—even the all-black ensemble doesn’t do much to hide the fact that Noctis is stacked with lean muscle. He keeps his distance as he moves into the elevator with Noctis, pressing himself against the far silver wall as the prince pushes the button for the bottom floor. 

“Nice backpack,” says Noctis. 

“Oh—huh?” Prompto dares a look in the prince’s direction—Noctis is _right_ next to him, staring him in the face, dark blue eyes baring into his very soul. Prompto is incredibly glad that Noctis isn’t telepathic—he'd surely get banished to Niflheim for his current thoughts. “Oh, I uh, they’re my favorite animal. Chocobos, that is. Heh.” He wants to look away, but he can’t. Noctis is right there. It would be so easy to—

“Are you single?” 

Prompto’s soul threatens to leave his body. 

“I—what?” 

The prince smiles, raising a perfectly-manicured eyebrow. “You’re pretty hot. Can I take you out after our photoshoot tomorrow?” 

Prompto clutches his jean vest and barks out a laugh in disbelief. “You’re uh—funny. Funny prince. I...that was a good one, man.” Prompto wants to die, actually. _Hello, Ifrit? Got room for one more down there?_

Noctis licks his lips. “I’m serious. What was it again—Prompto?” 

Prompto nods. “Prom...Prompto. Uh. Argentum. Prompto Argentum. Corner store guy.” 

Noctis nods as he shamelessly drags his gaze up and down the length of Prompto’s body again. “Didn’t we go to school together?” 

“I’m—um—yes? Yeah, we did, I just...” 

“Sorry.” Noctis backs away a little and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m really bad at talking to people—I always wanted to be friends with you but I never got up the courage to say hi.” 

Yeah, Prompto’s soul has _definitely_ left his body. He waves his hand nonchalantly. “You weren’t missing much, dude! I’m an awkward geek, a totally lame pleb. It’s fine, I mean...” What could Prompto have offered a prince, anyway? He shrugs. “It’s fine.” 

“It’s really not,” says Noctis, bitterly. “I was super dumb. So really. Allow me to take you out to lunch or something tomorrow after the shoot.” 

Noctis smiles again, then, and Prompto’s heart clenches in adoration. He can only nod in acquiescence as the elevator dings their arrival on the ground floor. 


End file.
